


When We Break

by Ynnealay



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bending (Avatar), Bolin-centric, Brother Feels, Fight Scenes, Gen, I'm Sorry, In between Book 2 and 3, Mako's scarf - Freeform, Mako-centric, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10566039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ynnealay/pseuds/Ynnealay
Summary: The Krew's night out goes horribly wrong, costing Mako's life. The remaining Team Avatar mourns. Set in between books two and three. Mainly focuses on the brothers.





	1. Korra

KORRA

Korra came back from Republic City with her hair in disarray and bags under her eyes. The sun was just rising after a chilly night, and the bite of the wind still numbed her cheeks when she arrived back inside on Air Temple Island. Weary, she walked down the halls, mostly silent, until she got to her room.

Asami was waiting for her, sitting in a chair facing the window.

“Asami,” Korra said, surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” Asami said, rising from her chair. She turned to look at Korra. There was a certain disappointed acceptance in Asami’s face. “You went to see Naklin last night, didn’t you?”

Korra swallowed and walked past her friend, falling into her chair to take off her boots. “Yeah, I did,” she admitted.

She couldn’t tell how Asami reacted to this. “And?”

“And nothing,” Korra said, “I didn’t do anything to her.”

“Really?” Asami was skeptical, and rightly so.

Korra paused. “I wanted to… I wanted to _really_ hurt her. Believe me, Asami, I wanted to, but I didn’t.”

She heard Asami sigh in relief, a quiet sigh, then a hand was on her shoulder. “I’m glad. I haven’t been able to think clearly, and I don’t know about you, but I didn’t want you to…”

“I know,” Korra said. She tilted her head to look at Asami, who looked so tired. There was always so much she never said. Korra figured she looked about the same.

“Has Bolin said anything?” Korra asked, switching subjects.

Asami shook her head. “He hasn’t even left his room.”

“I guessed,” Korra said. “It’s like they’re both gone.”

“Don’t say that,” Asami said, but there was no bite to her remark. “I don’t want to think like that.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Korra threw her boots across the room and stood, brushing off Asami’s hand. She walked to her bed, staring at the sheets.

“Tenzin is leaving today,” Korra said, “He’s going to go rebuild the Air Nation.” She turned.

It was clear from her face that Asami didn’t know how to react to this. “I know,” she said. “Are you going with him?”

“I’m the Avatar. I’m supposed to.” She sat on her bed. Even to herself, she didn’t sound convinced. She wasn’t convinced. She stared at her hands.

“If you’re going, I want to come with you, but I’m worried about leaving Bolin alone.”

Korra looked up at Asami. “What are the chances we’ll be able to convince him to come with us?”

“Not good,” Asami said, coming and sitting next to her, “And even if we all go, it’s not going to be the same.”

“How could it be?” Korra replied, “Mako is dead.”

Asami opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t have an answer. Nobody had an answer. A few days ago, Korra had been worried Mako was never going to talk her again, but she had never imagined this would be why. For a moment, Korra forgot how to move, and they sat there watching the callous sunrise.


	2. Mako

MAKO

It was dusk in the city and outside of a restaurant, Mako was standing on a street corner with Bolin. His face was a mix of disbelief and anger.

“You _what_!?” Mako exclaimed incredulously. Bolin looked sheepish and suddenly Mako felt bad for reacting so strongly. He looked across the street, sighing sharply. “I’m sorry, but you _what_?”

“Mako, I didn’t ask anybody from the Triple Threats or anything,” Bolin said, “I only asked some of Kazu’s team members and the kids from the square—”

Mako frowned. Kazu had been a pro-bender who used to practice in the same gym as them. He was a firebender with a quick but never scathing wit, and Bolin had always had a friendly relationship with him. Now, Mako had just learned, he had been dead for a month. A week ago Bolin had apparently heard about Kazu throwing himself off a roof and, not believing Kazu could have killed himself, had started his own investigation.

“You could have asked _me_ , Bolin. I’m a cop, I could have looked into it.” He looked back at Bolin to gauge his reaction.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner, but you’re so busy. You’re _always_ working, and this wasn’t even a real detective thing. It was just…” he trailed off nervously.

Repeating himself wasn’t going to change anything, even though Mako was still stuck on the fact that his brother could have been hurt, or gotten himself into another stupid situation doing this kind of thing. He took a moment, watching Bolin tap the tips of his fingers together.

“Fine,” Mako said, grudgingly. “What did you find out?”

Bolin looked hesitant, watching as Mako crossed his arms. He looked down, staring at the pavement. “I think… Kazu was _pushed_ off the roof.”

Mako dropped his arms to his side, suddenly attentive. “Kazu wouldn’t have just let himself get _pushed_ off a roof; he was an excellent fighter,” he said, “What makes you think he was pushed?”

If Kazu _had_ been pushed, it would make his death more than just a tragedy, it would have been an attack—and an attack by someone who was good enough to have beaten a more than competent bender.

Bolin pressed on, slowly. “That night, he went to go meet with someone called Naklin. I tried to find out who she was, but nobody will tell me anything.”

Mako frowned. “I know that name. I’ve heard of her.”

“Naklin?” Bolin repeated, clearly surprised, “Who is she?”

“I don’t know,” Mako said, _but the Triple Threats do_.

It must have been with the Triple Threats that he had heard the name before. Later, he would have to stop by their headquarters and ask. He wouldn’t tell Bolin, of course, but it wouldn’t be the first time he secretly went back to them for help. He wasn’t even doing any work for them this time. It would just be some questions.

“Oh,” Bolin said, “What should we do?”

“ _You’re_ not going to do anything else. Naklin could be dangerous.” He was almost certain she was. Mako furrowed his eyebrows, worrying. “Once we’re done here, I’m going back to work to start an official investigation.”

Bolin looked sorry, and Mako guessed it was because Bolin thought he was adding unnecessary work, but it didn’t matter. Working hard kept him distracted from the reason he was reluctant to visit Air Temple Island, which was pretty much the same reason he had been staying away from Future Industries and the Sato Mansion.

“Thanks, Mako,” Bolin said finally.

He was glad that Bolin didn’t argue. Underground crime was too easy to find in Republic City, and he didn’t want Bolin anywhere near it again. Bolin still looked guilty and Mako softened. He put a hand on Bolin’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, Bolin,” He smiled, trying to cheer him up. Bolin returned the smile, slightly. It was at least a little bit of a success. “So is this why you wanted to have dinner? To tell me this?”

“What?” Bolin looked genuinely surprised. “No!” His eyes lit up as if he had suddenly remembered something, and his entire demeanour changed. “I just wanted to… hang out. And… you know, do brother stuff. Let’s go in and eat.”

It took him off guard that he had _another_ motive for bringing Mako to dinner, and from how Bolin was acting, this wasn’t as dangerous a motive.  

Suspicious, but playfully so, Mako followed his brother into the restaurant: a noodle house that Mako realized they could afford now that Bolin had money saved up from the movers and he had been working a steady job. It was nice, he thought.

Back when he was dating Korra, he had started mentally marking places to take her on their next dates whenever he was in the city. He would have marked this place, he thought, she would have liked it.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice they had gotten to a table until Bolin said,

“Surprise!” and Mako looked to see Korra and Asami _right there_ , seated and waiting.

Instantly, he froze. Bolin was pulling out his chair and sitting down, smiling like there was nothing wrong, and Mako forgot how to form sentences.

“Hi, Mako,” Asami said. Korra smiled at him. He didn’t reply, then realized he should, and said the first thing that he could force out of his mouth:

“Ms. Sato,” he said, falling back on professional addresses, “Hello.”

They both gave him an odd look and he wanted to turn around and leave. How could it be that a moment ago he was having a normal conversation with his brother and now he couldn’t figure out how to speak?

“What?” Korra teased, “Don’t I get a title?”

“Hi, Avatar Korra,” he said immediately, only realizing a second afterwards that she had been joking. He looked to Bolin for help.

“We haven’t done something together in so long,” Bolin said, seeing his pause, “I just thought we could all get together and have dinner like we used to.” 

He was still standing. _Why_ was he still standing? Mako sat down stiffly. He realized that Bolin must have planned this.

“Bolin’s right,” Korra said, “It’s been awhile. How’ve you been, Mako?”

“I’ve been good,” Mako said mechanically, “Working. A lot of working.”

“Me too,” said Asami, “I’m just getting the hang of running Future Industries now that Varrick’s gone. It’s been hard to get out.”

“I’ve been out almost every day,” Korra said, “But the spirit vines don’t seem to want to move.”

Mako pulled at the edge of his scarf awkwardly, looking from Asami to Korra. They both looked so non-threatening, and that only made him more uncomfortable. Maybe it would be possible to leave and just… not come back in. He scanned the room.

“Uh,” Mako said, “So… I have to, um, I have to check on something. I’ll be right back.”

Ignoring Bolin’s questioning look, Mako hastily stood up, knocking his chair over with a clatter. His three friends watched him in confusion as he righted the chair, grimacing apologetically while heading for the washrooms.

Once he was sure they weren’t watching him, he ducked behind a passing waiter and bolted for the back door.

Before long he was out in the cool night air, standing in a back alleyway. It was a clear night. He sagged against the wall and sighed in relief. Two ex-girlfriends in one place— what was Bolin thinking? He wanted to be angry at Bolin for setting him up like this, but he knew his brother only had the best intentions and it was difficult to stay angry at him with that in mind. Plus, if he was being totally honest, avoiding Korra and sleeping under his desk was not only uncomfortable, it was getting pretty stupid.

Even so, Mako started to run, with no real plan in mind other than to not spend the night at dinner with his exes.  

“Mako, wait!”

Mako turned back to see Bolin standing in the door. Yellow light spilled into the alley, casting Bolin’s shadow across the wall. _Oh, come on!_ Mako sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“Where are you going? We haven’t even ordered,” Bolin said, sounding genuinely curious. Mako groaned and walked back.

“Look, I can’t go back in there. It’s just… Korra. And Asami.” Oh _now_ his sentences were working.

“What about them?” Bolin said.

“I can’t... I don’t know how to talk to them,” Mako said, “Or _look_ at them,” he added. “I just feel like there’s too much history.”

Bolin looked exasperated. “I _know,_ ” he said, gesturing widely at the door. “That’s why we’re here! Ever since you broke up with Korra, you’ve been acting really weird—”

“I’m not acting—”

“You sleep under your desk because you can’t look at her.”

He wanted to argue, but there was literally nothing to say against that.

Bolin let the door close behind him and stood facing Mako with his hands on his hips. “Mako, I think all we need to do is sit down and talk— get everything back to normal like it used to be. And you running away down an alley is _really_ not helping this whole friendship operation.”

Mako looked around, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t know, Bolin. I just feel like this night is going to end very badly.”  

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Bolin asked, “Korra and Asami are our friends.” Mako must have looked skeptical because Bolin continued, “Okay. I promise if things get too awkward, I’ll take over and do all the talking. You won’t have to say anything.”  

“Really?”

“I’m here for you, bro. There’s a nice bed waiting for you on Air Temple Island, you just have to get over being around _our friends_. Besides, if you spend any more time at work, people are gonna start saying your desk is the only one who understands you.”

While Mako was one-hundred percent sure that _nobody_ was saying that about him and his desk, Bolin was right. He looked so optimistically sure that everything would work out, and maybe Mako believed him. He chuckled. A bed did sound nice, and a life outside of work. Plus, he missed just being friends with Korra and Asami. He missed hanging out and talking, and being able to rely on them.

“Okay,” he said, still reluctant, “fine.”

Bolin’s enthusiasm lit up his entire face. Mako smiled lightly, but abruptly froze. His gaze wandered past Bolin’s shoulder, and something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. The smile dropped sharply off his face.

“Mako? What is it?”

There was a fire escape ladder on a wall behind Bolin, and Mako could _swear_ there was somebody clinging to the ladder.

It could have just been a trick of the light, but—no. There was definitely someone there, and they were staying strangely still. He met Bolin’s eyes and immediately Bolin’s blank look was replaced with one of total understanding.

The person was hidden against the shadows. All at once, Mako was sure they were being watched as keenly as he was observing their watcher on the fire escape. Their conversation from before pushed itself into the front of his mind, as well as the worry that something could have happened when Bolin was asking around about someone whose _name_ shut people up. He felt a chilling certainness that whoever was on the fire escape was here for Bolin.

“I think we should—” _go inside_ , was what he was going to say, but he was cut off when a blaze of flames shot towards them. His eyes widened and he signaled quickly for Bolin to get down. As Bolin ran to the side, Mako returned fire.

Bolin raised a section of rock from the ground. Mako ducked behind Bolin’s wall as their attacker dropped off the fire escape, advancing on them. He was fast and agile, gaining too much ground too quickly for Mako’s liking. The alley was briefly illuminated by a stream of fire. Mako could feel the dry air and the rock heating up on his shoulder.

“Who the heck is that?” Bolin asked, punching chunks of rock towards the firebender before dropping down beside Mako.

“My best guess? Probably someone who doesn’t want you asking about Kazu anymore,” Mako said grimly.

He sprung up, bending a burst of fire. As he lit up the alley, he saw that the firebender was younger than he would have guessed. He looked about Bolin’s age, but with a hard edge in his blue eyes that reminded Mako of a kid who was definitely used to street work. He dodged Mako’s attack, only to be tripped when the ground beneath his feet cracked, jagged pieces of earth springing from the pavement.

Bolin shoved forward the remaining wall to give Mako cover as he advanced with fire dancing in his palm.

Out of nowhere, Mako was toppled by a jet of water. A second bender dropped down, slamming him into a brick wall. For a moment, Mako was disoriented, water blinding him. He lashed out and felt steam hit his face and the attack let up. He threw himself to the side before the assault could continue, wondering who these people were and hoping there weren’t more than two.  

A bolt of ice flew for his face and he jumped back, only to be forced against the wall again by a torrent of water.

Mako’s head hit the bricks. Light flashed behind his eyelids with a sharp crack. In an instant, he was years ago, hearing that same cracking sound as he stood in a damp alley with his old triad.

He had been hanging back like Shady Shin had told him, pressing his small palms against the cold brick and _watching how it was done_. Three triad members were beating down a debtor against a trash bin, taking turns with each element. Mako watched studiously, committing every firebending threatening tactic to memory, remembering every word. That’s when someone had mentioned _Naklin_ , an ex-member of the Red Monsoons. She had gone solo, and if you wanted someone dead, you went to her, and within a month they were gone.

He gasped and got a mouthful of water. He was back in the present. Abruptly, the waterbender had been shoved to the side by a section of levitating pavement. Mako looked to see Bolin with is arms up. He gasped for breath, pushing himself off the wall.

One moment, Bolin was standing in front of him, and the next, a blast from the firebender had knocked him over. Mako was quick to return the favour, sending the firebender to the ground.

Bolin needed cover.

He turned around, playing defense against the waterbender while Bolin got up.

With a start, he realized that Naklin, the hit boss, was targeting _Bolin_. It scared him.

“There’s two of them now!?” Bolin exclaimed, re-grounding himself and bending rocks at the firebender.

“It’s Naklin,” Mako said, “She’s trying to kill you!” He ducked as the waterbender shot a liquid tentacle at him, and shifted positions so he was back to back with Bolin.

“ _What_?” Bolin exclaimed. Mako got the sense it was more of a protest than actual confusion.

The firebender kicked a horizontal disk of flames headed straight for Bolin. At the same time, the waterbender lifted a deluge of water from a nearby storm drain and sent a barrage of icicles towards Mako. He reached behind himself, grabbing Bolin’s arm, and swung them around to switch positons.

In an instant, the threat of ice was replaced by the threat of fire. Mako split the flames in half, bending them harmlessly against the walls. The hot air hit him as he punched back, sweat pooling on his forehead. Behind him, he saw Bolin bend another barrier for the ice to shatter against. Bolin changed his position and the wall broke off in chunks, flying straight into the assassin and knocking him back.

“Naklin is a hit boss,” Mako explained quickly, “She organized a hit on Kazu and now that she thinks you know, she’s sending assassins!”

“That’s… not good,” Bolin said. Mako would have laughed at the understatement had they not been in the middle of a fight.

A sheet of ice slipped under Bolin’s feet and he fell, narrowly missing Mako who stepped out of the way, before going forward. The waterbender advanced, but didn’t get far before Mako blasted him back while Bolin got to his feet. He turned around quickly to see the firebender getting in between them, forcing Bolin to the side in a quick dodge. He turned and tried to hit Mako with a burning fist, but Mako jumped off a wall, out of the way to give Bolin a shot. Chunks of brick hit the assassin in the back of the head.  

With both assassins temporarily down, Mako ran for the waterbender, burning the wet ground as he went to eliminate as much water as he could.

“Naklin sent you to kill my brother, didn’t she!?” he said, pinning the waterbender to the ground, hands behind his back. A flaming knife appeared in Mako’s hand and he held it close to the assassin’s face. He was angrier than necessary, but not without reason. Up close, the waterbender was surprisingly young, too. Formidable, obviously, but just a kid. The flame from Mako’ hand reflected in the assassin’s amber eyes.

The assassin rolled to one side, trying to throw him off, but Mako still had grip on one arm. He threw the assassin over his shoulder, smashing him onto the ground and putting him out cold.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an unshaped inferno coming for them from the firebender’s direction. He didn’t bother putting his hands up, Bolin bent a shield in a feat of acrobatics. As soon as the fire had swept over them, the shield fell back into the earth with a clunk.

Down the alley, the firebender had turned around and was fleeing.

“He’s running…” Bolin said.

“Where’s he going?” Mako wondered aloud, “Hey! Stop!”  

“I’ll get him!”

Suddenly, Bolin was running after the assassin.

“Bolin!” Mako called, alarmed, “Wait!”  

“Get Korra and Asami!” Bolin turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Mako considered ignoring Bolin and running after him anyway. _This_ was another stupid situation. How did this always happen?

Just as he cast his glance to the door of the restaurant, it burst open. Korra and Asami stood looking at him and the unconscious assassin on the pavement.  

“We heard fighting,” Asami said, “What happen—”

“Get the police!” Mako commanded. “No time to explain. Bolin went after the second guy, I have to follow him.” Without waiting for an answer, Mako took off.

“Mako!” Korra called, “I’m coming with you!”

He realized, as Korra caught up to him, that he was grateful she was coming. It was probably the first time he had been glad to see Korra since they broke up.

“So, what’s this about!?” Korra asked as they ran.  

“A hit boss wants Bolin dead! She sent assassins after him.”

“Explain why she wants him dead later,” Korra said, “Let’s go.”  

* * *

They followed Bolin and the assassin into a concert hall on the edge of town, where construction had been halted a few years back, leaving the roads unopened and the surrounding neighborhood empty. Mako felt something intuitive tell him that they were getting closer and closer to danger as he and Korra climbed through a tall, smashed window. The edges of the glass were black with soot. Bolin and the assassin were nowhere to be found.

They were in a hallway draped with thick black curtains and carpeted in expensive red, but the full moonlight through the window cast a strong blue light over everything.

“Split up,” Mako said, looking down both ends of the hall. Korra nodded quickly and they took off in opposite directions.

He wasn’t running long before he found a basement door swinging open, ringing with the sounds of a fight.  

Down the stairs, his image of the basement came in flares of firebending light. They were already fighting when he reached them. It seemed they were in a boiler room, pipes jutting out of the ground in sporadic places.

He dodged a stream of fire when he got to the bottom, crashing sideways into Bolin. He pulled Bolin up, yanking him out of the way of another blast of fire.

“I can’t see what I’m bending!” Bolin said immediately. Mako heard the cement rumble beneath him, knowing it was a shield before the fire hit it.

“There!” Mako said, tossing a blaze of fire back at the assassin. As the room lit up, he saw the firebender duck behind a wall of pipes. Bolin punched apart a section of his shield, aiming it blindly forward.

“I can’t hit him!” Bolin said. They both ducked as more fire torched their direction.

Mako called a flame to his hand.

“Go again,” he told Bolin.

Bolin broke off another chunk of rock and Mako bent a ring of fire around it, guiding Bolin’s aim. He fought defensively, bending flames away from Bolin or back towards the assassin while being a targeting system so Bolin could see in the dark.

The first of Bolin’s attacks hit the assassin, and Mako smirked. They had him in a corner. Mako stepped forward, a flame igniting in his hand, running at the firebender.

Suddenly, he was surrounded by dark water, striking him from the side. It came out of nowhere— there wasn’t even enough time to take a breath. He swallowed a gasp of bitter water. He couldn’t find air. He shot fire desperately, unable to see where this new attack had come from.

Mako recognized his own fear by the fact that he didn’t feel any. The water was everywhere, and he was flung against some metal, hard. His vision went white, then black, then nothing.


	3. Bolin

BOLIN

Bolin heard the sound of smacked pipes, ringing with the force of Mako being thrown against them, then he was in the dark again. He ran in the direction of his brother, blindly. This was bad. This was really bad.

It had happened so fast—one moment they were winning the fight and then everything was dark and he could make out the shape of a woman surrounded by swirling water, standing over the firebender assassin.

It was Naklin, he didn’t need Mako to tell him that.

He found Mako’s arm in the dark, covered in a soaked sleeve. He was limp and heavy, but that was fine. It was _fine_. They were going to be okay. He looped Mako’s arm around his shoulder, lifting them both from the floor. Mako didn’t respond at all and Bolin panicked a little.

He didn’t think Naklin had seen him yet—Mako had been drawing attention to himself by holding fire, but Bolin had been standing in the shadows. She thought she had dealt with the only threat in the room, which would give him at least a moment before she noticed him, to get Mako out…  

Mako stirred and came to. Oh _good_. Bolin grabbed him and pulled him in the direction of the stairs, still watching Naklin’s silhouette and hoping that they would get lucky and she wouldn’t notice them at all.

It was too much to hope for that amount of luck. He heard the sound of snapping metal before he felt the water spray out of the pipes. It poured down on them, unshaped at first, but he knew it was about to become bent into a weapon against them. She had seen them. Naklin’s shape got bigger and clearer, heading right for them.   

“Let’s get out of here!” he said, unnecessarily. Mako was already sprinting up the stairs. He looked behind them only once, seeing Naklin rushing at them, backed by a wave. The water flooded the stairwell.  

It almost seemed like it was the water itself chasing them. It surged forward, clinging to the wall and threatening to sweep Bolin’s feel out from under him as it crawled aggressively over the floor. Water whipped out, catching him on the leg, its sharp point almost stabbed him before it was severed by a slash of fire. They had to find somewhere to turn and fight, or they would have no chance. Their odds already weren’t looking good.

The hallway turned into a dead end. Mako turned around hurriedly, processing and planning amazingly fast.  

“In here!” Mako said.

There was a split second when Bolin had to follow Mako back the way they had come, seeing the drowning force rushing at him head on. They darted through a door and into a large room that looked like it might have been an unfinished concert theatre. Bolin took a step back, watching Mako try and fail to close the door behind them.

Naklin tore through the door— surging water at Mako. His defense was too small, not fast enough, and he flew backwards. Couldn’t people _stop_ throwing Mako around!? He stumbled to his feet faster than he should have, grunting painfully. Bolin worried, but didn’t have time to do anything about it.

He turned back around as Naklin sent her resource of water against the walls, ripping the long, thick curtains from their rods. Moonlight streamed in, clear and bright, and Bolin didn’t have to see Mako to know he would be uncomfortable as a firebender fighting _another_ waterbender during full moon.

Wait.

Full moon.

Bolin found himself levitated, his muscles locked and unresponsive.

He cried out the first moment he could feel it— her bloodbending. He could feel her in every part of his body, yanking and holding him where she wanted. There was no control. It felt horrible.  

“Uh,” Bolin said, choosing a casual tone to try and downplay how terrified he suddenly felt, “Mako? I’m starting to think full moon _might_ be a bad thing.”

Before he could hear Mako’s response, there was a crash from somewhere down the hall. Muffled through the walls, Korra’s voice called their names.

“Korra,” Mako said. Bolin looked up, hopeful.

“Korra!” he said, “Korra, in here— ah!”

Naklin constricted the blood vessels in his throat, silencing him.

“Stop!” Mako exclaimed immediately, unchecked desperation spilling into his voice. Naklin paid no attention as the sound of footsteps got louder towards them. Bolin struggled for breath.

“Korra?” Naklin repeated. There was a hint of fear in her voice. “The Avatar is _here_?”

“That’s right,” said Mako. He had picked up on her trepidation. “There’s no way out of this. If you let us go now, it won’t be as bad for you.” He was keeping his tone placating, but Bolin knew he wasn’t as calm as he was pretending to be. Could he tell that Bolin could hear his own pulse, against the crushing pressure on his throat?

Naklin hesitated, and Bolin could feel it in her bloodbending. He could feel her grip loosen slightly, and he gasped in what little air he could.

“Don’t worry,” Mako said. He couldn’t tell if his brother was addressing him or Naklin.

Just as he was getting used to the shallow breaths, her hold returned twice as strong, choking any measure of levity out of him. He tried to make a sound, but nothing escaped his throat. He was scared. He was so scared.

She stared at them with a cold look, thinking, strategizing, and doing it quickly because she knew she was running out of time. Bolin felt lightheaded, struggling against the black edges that framed his vision.

“ _You_ know all about me,” she said, “but the Avatar doesn’t.” Naklin’s lips curled up into a chilling smile that pulled a knot of adrenaline through Bolin’s core. She had decided something, and Bolin didn’t know what.

If only he had just ended up slightly back, so he could have met Mako’s eyes, figured out what his brother was thinking, figured out what their next move would be, but all he could see was Naklin and her smile.

“There’s no reason for me to stay here and wait for the Avatar. No reason at all.”

She looked from Bolin to Mako with a disturbing air of nonchalant choice. The adrenaline in Bolin pulled tighter, threatening to break him in half. She centered on Bolin, and released his throat again like some cruel game, but he still couldn’t bring himself to make a sound. Everything seemed to narrow into one point of focus, and Bolin could feel his head beginning to twist against his will, rotating with her wrist. He cried out in pain, pure terror shooting through him.

He heard Mako shout. “Bolin!” 

Everything happened too fast. Mako’s lightning shot past his ear. Naklin _just_ managed to dodge his attack, then her arm was tensed and her gaze was square on Mako. She twisted her wrist quick and violent.

Bolin heard an audible _snap_.

He felt like all his breath was gone, and would have flinched had his entire body not been firmly in the control of the bloodbender in front of him.

A scream tore from his throat. “ _Mako!_ ”

There was no answer.

His heart was pounding out of his chest and a sickening ring grew in his head, deafening Bolin to the sound of a body hitting the floor.

For a _moment_ , he grasped at the shred of unreasonable hope that maybe Mako was still alive.

Then, Korra ran into the room, and she was shrieking his brother’s name with more terror, revulsion, and _anger_ than he had ever heard, and Bolin knew it was over.

Half of him wanted to turn around and see for himself. The other half was terrified of what he knew he’d find.

Korra’s eyes turned white, the light of the Avatar State channeling through her. The bloodbender tried to seize her, twitching her fingers at odd angles, but the power of the moon doesn’t discriminate between waterbenders.

Bolin paid barely any attention to the fight that ensued. _Mako_. His face was hot, and even with his blood being tormented, he could feel himself shaking. _Mako_.

Naklin screamed. She tossed Bolin into a wall, snapping her control over him, and everything went momentarily dark as he fell to a crumpled heap. Details filtered through to him: the clatter of a brawl, the heat of Korra firebending. He knew he should get up and help, but he couldn’t find the will to. Everything felt battered.

Korra was screaming something wordless. Naklin really should have run when she had the chance, because Korra’s vengeance was terrible and terrifying.

He couldn’t hear Naklin anymore.

The fight was over, and the fight in him was gone.

Finally, Bolin managed shake the stupor out of his head. The room was half on fire, the other half dripping wet, and Korra was assaulting Naklin’s unconscious body with jets of violent water, screaming and crying.

He stared blankly.

He had barely recovered when he stumbled to his feet and turned around. Oh no. No. He was immediately on his knees again at the sight of his brother. His brother, lying face down in the middle of a trashed room, like he was just another thing broken in the fight. He was at Mako’s side in seconds. Mako was in his arms in even less.

From behind him, someone gasped and then cried Mako’s name. Then Korra’s. It was Asami. Her entrance made no difference to Bolin.

“No.” He wasn’t aware that he was speaking. “No… Mako. Mako. _Please_. No. No…”

Mako’s body was limp under his hands. Still warm, like fire might still live on his fingertips. Bolin swallowed a dry mouth and put his hand on Mako’s chest. _Hoping_. No movement. No breath.

He felt so helpless, on the floor with a body in his arms, and no way to do anything about it. Was this how Mako had felt the night their parents had died?

Bolin made a strangled noise, like he was the one dying. His would be a slow death—unlike what had just happened. He imagined the life in Mako’s eyes, suddenly dull. He imagined the straining limbs suddenly limp. He was spared the real image, but his imagination was no more kind. He never got to see Mako’s last breath, last expression. He never even looked his brother in the eye before he—

The _snap_ echoed again in his mind and Bolin shuddered. He hunched over his brother’s body and that dying noise forced itself out of his throat again. Suddenly, his eyes were wet and hot. He felt crimson. He felt numb. His shoulders heaved while his strangled throat became raw with cries.

Distantly, Asami was begging for Korra to stop, to _get off_. Bolin didn’t care. He held Mako tighter, and how many times had Mako held him like this to keep them both warm? How many nights on the street? How many close calls? How many promises to look out for each other? And Mako...

“Mako... _don’t_ ,” Bolin said, closing his eyes, burying his head in Mako’s chest. “C’mon, bro.” He forced the tone, it was all wrong and his voice broke. He should have been better at this. It was up to him to make everything seem fine by pretending everything was, but no amount of effort could make this okay. “Wake up, Mako. Just… Just…”

No words were enough, and all he was doing was sobbing over a body, clutching it desperately like just that would bring Mako back. _Bring him back_. _Bring him back._ He didn’t know who he was asking, and couldn’t remember how to put himself back together.

* * *

The day of the funeral, Bolin said nothing. He was keenly aware that his silence was unusual— it was a state he reserved only for when he had nothing left to say. It had been like this last time he had watched his family burn.

Korra lit Mako’s funeral pyre.

He burned, surrounded by flames.

Uninvited, Bolin remembered one of their first pro-bending matches, when he had seen Mako in the middle of a complicated combo, surrounded by flames. He had never looked more alive.

Now, Mako was dead.

Reality hit him like a physical blow, and Bolin felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It was his fault, wasn’t it? _He_ had been playing detective. _He_ had insisted Mako go to dinner with him. Naklin had been after _him_. Mako shouldn’t have been there in the first place. _Oh._ It _was_ his fault, wasn’t it?

He wouldn’t let this destroy him. He couldn’t. But maybe it already had.

Bolin could feel Asami and Korra watching him the whole time. Nothing felt real anymore.

Time blurred together. There was crying, and condolences, a tombstone, and a space where Mako was supposed to be.

One day, Bolin closed his curtains and locked his door. People knocked, but he never answered. He stayed in his room and lost track of the days.

If he measured time at all, it was in the gaps Mako left behind— there were too many to count. When his solitude was too much, he took Mako’s scarf out of the chest where he had locked it the day of the funeral. He just wanted to hold it. Emotions twisted inside of him, and Bolin was glad he wasn’t a firebender or else he might have recklessly burned it. He wanted it gone, he wanted everything gone. In a way, everything was. Everyone was.

He hung it up on the handle of his closet to force himself to look at it. When Bolin lay down to sleep, he could just barely make out its dark red outline. It hurt that it couldn’t be Mako’s scarf anymore. Not really. Nothing could _really_ be Mako’s anymore because he was dead. He hated those words more than he had ever hated anything. Mako was dead.

Tears streaked across Bolin’s face, pooling under his cheek on the pillow. Everything felt quivering and raw—open and tired. No one came to his door anymore. He was suffocating.

Bolin remembered a long time ago, shortly after their parents had died, Mako had wrapped the scarf around him to keep him warm. He remembered the soft, worn material contrasting against the cold, wet pavement where they had been sleeping. Mako stayed awake to keep the fire alive in his hands, but even he needed rest; when Mako eventually nodded off, the heat flickered out, too.

Then, all that was left was the scarf. It was a long scarf—long enough to wrap around both of them a comfortable length. Bolin remembered curling into Mako when the night got particularly cold, then all that mattered was right there, right then. Everything was good and soft, the surrounding world only a gentle afterthought. As long as he had Mako, he knew he was safe, and he fell asleep warm.

Bolin woke up cold.


	4. Asami

ASAMI

Asami was looking for Korra, who hadn’t been there to greet her when she delivered the airship. She wasn’t disappointed, per se, just resigned to the fact that things between what was left of Team Avatar were never going to be the same. It left something sad behind, the resignation, but it was a numb sadness, easier to handle than the weight that came with bitter change.

She was surprised when she found Korra coming out of the men’s dorm, looking surprisingly well—almost back to normal. Her eyes were brighter, with no more evidence of sleepless nights hanging from them. Asami was glad to see Korra like this again, but wary.

She stopped on the steps when she saw Asami, glancing behind her once.

“Did you bring the airship?”

“Everything’s all set,” Asami answered. There was a false note of optimism in her voice. It dropped off quickly when there wasn’t a quick response. “So,” she said, “You talked to Bolin?”

“Yeah, I did,” Korra said, uncomfortably. It had been awhile since either of them had tried. “He didn’t say anything back.”

Asami looked off, unsurprised. “What’d you say to him?”

“I told him I was going to Ba Sing Se with Tenzin,” Korra replied, “I guess I was hoping that if I stalled long enough, somehow things would get better and we could all go. It was a stupid idea.”

Her tone was deceptively casual, as if the loss of two of their friends didn’t bother her. To someone who didn’t know Korra like Asami did, she almost seemed blasé.

_Korra…_

She stepped forward, trying to get Korra to look at her.

“It wasn’t a stupid idea,” she said gently, “We all need time.”

Korra stopped for a moment, not responding to what Asami had just said. _Please, no._ Asami couldn’t handle it if Korra started shutting her out, too. Then, Korra looked up, and when she replied, the conversational tone was gone.

“I know, but… I’m out. It’s been almost a month, and I can’t ask Tenzin to wait any more.”

Her victory at getting Korra to stop pretending was tainted by how defeated she sounded otherwise. It would be selfish, as well as cruel, to ask her to stay. Korra was lucky enough to have a responsibility elsewhere, to something bigger than just their group of friends. The responsibility here was like a prison.

“You have to go,” Asami said, “I understand.” She couldn’t afford not to.

Korra met Asami’s eyes, and held her there awhile. Her expression was filled with soft regret. She wished there was something she could say to comfort her friend, but nothing worthy came to mind. Didn’t she used to be better at this?

“I wish I wasn’t leaving both of you behind.”

And she wished Korra wasn’t going, but Asami forced herself to smile in response. She could do that much for Korra.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”  

For a second, she could see Korra’s determination wavering. She hadn’t been entirely convincing. They were both still so shaken, although they hid it better now. She couldn’t imagine what Bolin was going through.

“I have to go get my bags,” Korra said abruptly.

“Of course,” Asami said. “I’m… I’m going to talk to Bolin.”

“Okay,” Korra said.

Korra stood still for a moment, looking lost. She was still recovering, but life didn’t just stop to wait for people to be okay. Asami reached out to comfort her, but before she could, Korra had straightened, pulling herself together. 

“Tell him I’m sorry.”

Korra looked like she wanted to say more, but Asami could tell that if she had said anything else, she wouldn’t have been able to leave so composed.

Asami watched her go. Suddenly she felt like she was losing Korra. She could see it this time, too.

The hardest to see had been when Mako had left her and the unconscious assassin in an alley, telling her to go get the police. That was the last time she had seen Mako. Bolin should have been easier to see, when he first locked his door and told them he just needed a day, which turned into a week, then a month. Now, Korra was leaving. Despite it staring at her, obvious and threatening, Asami couldn’t bring herself to do anything. What was there left to do, anyway?

She watched until Korra was gone, and then found herself turning inside to do exactly what she had said: talk to Bolin.

No one was in the hallway when she got there, and the door to Bolin’s room had been closed so long she couldn’t remember what it looked like open. She knocked.

“Bolin?”

There was no answer.

“Korra wanted me to tell you she’s sorry.” She paused.

Asami sighed quietly, brushing back some hair, unable to remember how many times she had come to Bolin’s door, and all the things she had said. She had apologized for things that weren’t her fault, offered comfort that went unaccepted. Sometimes she would just come and talk when she needed someone to talk to, but she had stopped that when it started feeling like no one was listening.

“I just wanted to say…” there was one thing she hadn’t said yet. “I miss you.”

Was he even listening now? Maybe it didn’t matter.  

“But… don’t worry about me,” she said softly. She hated that she was failing completely at sounding reassuring, “It doesn’t matter.”

Korra was right. Talking to Bolin’s door felt like talking to Mako’s tombstone. It wasn’t any different, but she couldn’t pinpoint when exactly she had stopped expecting an answer. So much had gone wrong in the past month that trying to mark every time things gotten worse would be impossible.

“I miss my friends: Korra, you, M—” she stopped, unable to say it. “But, everyone has to go, and… it doesn’t matter.” And, really, maybe if she believed it didn’t, it wouldn’t.

She stepped back. Maybe it was time for her to go, too. She turned and walked away. The hallway wasn’t very long, and in its quiet she could hear her own hollow footsteps. Would she ever come back? It scared her to think like that, as if at some point she would have to be the one leaving, the one gone. At least not today, she decided, today wouldn’t be the day she left anybody.  

A voice startled her. 

“Asami, wait.”

Her steps faltered and she stopped, unbelieving, and scared to be hopeful. Her breath caught in her throat.

It couldn’t have been.

It was.

When she turned, Bolin stood in the hallway, hand still on the doorframe. Asami’s eyes widened, looking him up and down. He looked like an utter wreck. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair dishevelled. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

They stared at each other silently, neither of them prepared to deal with this mess.   

“I miss my friends, too,” Bolin said. His voice was hoarse like he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a while. It sounded painful for him to speak.

“Bolin,” was all she could think to say.  

So much distance had come between them in the past month, and now it was all in front of them in just a few feet of hallway. What was she supposed to say now?

Before she had to worry about it much longer, Bolin was walking to her, closing the distance that separated them. When he got to her, he hugged her.

Surprised, she stood unmoving in his arms. It didn’t feel real, after not seeing him for so long, that he was _here_. It _was_ real, though, and she hugged him back. The minute she gave in, she found familiarity in his comfort. She hadn’t realized how much she missed Bolin’s hugs.  

“I’m sorry,” Bolin said.

Asami shook her head before realizing he couldn’t see her. “Don’t apologize.”  

There was so much she wanted to say, but nothing she was thinking found its way into sentences. She hugged him tighter, wanting him to be okay. She wanted so much for everything to be okay again.  

Finally, they released each other and stepped back.  

Bolin cleared his throat. “I want to go to Ba Sing Se with you and Korra.”

And she thought he couldn’t have done anything more surprising.

“What?” she said.

“I’m done staying in my room,” Bolin said, determination in his voice, “and I won’t turn my back on my friends.”

The determination there wasn’t cold, like what she had seen in his eyes at Mako’s funeral. That determination had been backed by desperation not to break, and resolve to survive. Now, the tone in Bolin’s voice was different, fueled by warmth instead of fear.

“Are you sure?” she said.

“It’s where our dad grew up,” Bolin said. He took a breath, and added softer, “I would’ve wanted Mako to go.”

It was the first time since Mako had died that she had heard Bolin say his name like he was a reason to survive instead of a reason to give up. _Mako is really gone_. Asami took a moment, steadying herself by looking at Bolin, who was watching her almost nervously. _Mako is gone, but we’ll keep going._

“Okay,” Asami said quietly, “Come with us.”

She stared at Bolin for a long time, and started to smile despite herself, then realized—

“They’re leaving any minute— we have to go.” She started towards the door.

“Asami, um…” Bolin stopped her in the hallway for the second time in the past few minutes. “Wait right here.”

He ran into his room. What was he…?

Bolin re-emerged surprisingly quick. He had changed his clothes and was finishing running a comb through his hair, but that wasn’t what drew her attention.  

He tossed the comb onto his bed from the doorway, smiling with an expression that fit his face perfectly.

“Okay,” he said, turning back to her, “Let’s go.”

She took a deep breath, unable to take her gaze off the red cloth he had wrapped around his neck. _Oh, Bolin_.

“Let’s go,” Asami repeated.

_It's all I have left of him. I just feel like… it keeps me safe._

Bolin was wearing Mako’s scarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Or... about eight thousand in this case. 
> 
> Inspired by this artwork: http://minuiko.deviantart.com/art/Korra-don-t-leave-me-303245075


End file.
